


Three Baths

by lajulie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bathtubs, Bubble Bath, F/M, HanLeia Secret Santa 2017, Hoth, Pre-ESB UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lajulie/pseuds/lajulie
Summary: Han Solo loves Leia Organa, a good bath, and a good story. But some stories are too special to share with the outside world.





	Three Baths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [losteeyore363](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=losteeyore363).



> This is a special surprise for @losteeyore363 for the HanLeia Secret Santa Holiday Exchange 2017. 
> 
> You wouldn't think that "Han Solo + baths" and "Han/Leia on Hoth" would really go together, but if you add some Rogues and a magic hot tub...you just never know. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Shoutout to my Tumblr peeps who have somehow made Han Solo and his Journey of the Bath a thing now.

“More bubbles! We need more bubbles for General Solo!”

Han Solo had been in a lot of strange situations over the years—nearly smashed in a trash compactor, made part of an Ewok tribe, assistant to a magician—but he had no idea how he’d managed to get himself into this one. He was at a holo shoot for one of the biggest lifestyle magazines in the galaxy, sitting in a bathtub as the stylist strategically placed more bubbles around his torso. Someone had tried to… _groom_ his chest hair earlier. He’d managed to convince them to replace the sparkling wine they’d initially given him with a glass of whiskey, but other than that, he had completely lost control of the situation.

Lando, Luke, Wedge, and the Rogues were never going to let him live this down. Hell, _Leia_ was never going to let him live this down. Thank the Gods she was too busy to come down here and see…. _whatever_ the hell spectacle this was in person.

A familiar chuckle sounded behind him, and Han groaned. Evidently Leia’s schedule had opened up.

“If I weren’t seeing this with my own two eyes,” Leia said as she approached, “I wouldn’t have believed it.” She was still in her work dress, a half-empty frozen kaffe frappé in her hand.

He grinned at her. “Hey, Sweetheart. Thought you had meetings all afternoon.”

She took a long sip from her straw, leaning against the edge of the bathtub. “I did. Last one got cancelled. And I had a suspicion that this—“ she indicated the photoshoot with a sweep of her hand— “might be more interesting anyway. Guess I was right.”

He looked her up and down. _Damn_. Even in her relatively modest work attire, Leia was absolutely stunning. “Wanna join me in here?” he flirted, throwing in a little wink for good measure.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb your bubbles,” she demurred. “How’s the water?”

“Honestly? Cold as hell,” he admitted. “Hoping we get this show on the road before my damn nipples fall off.”

She laughed. “Are they letting you wear anything under there?” she asked, leaning over and trying to peer into the water without disturbing the bubbles.

“Would you—you already know what I—there’s a little swimsuit,” Han admitted, almost blushing.

“Is it flesh-colored?” Leia asked, still trying to get a look.

They were mercifully interrupted by the stylist. “I’m very sorry, Princ—I mean Ambassador, but I need to apply a few more bubbles and, uh, wet General Solo’s chest before we can start.”

Leia got up and moved out of the way. “By all means,” she said graciously, her diplomatic training obviously the only thing keeping her from breaking into peals of laughter at that sentence.

* * *

At home, Leia had no such restrictions, and was still laughing as she drew Han an actual hot bath, this time sans bubbles. Corellian food had been procured, whiskey had been poured, and Leia was removing her clothes to join him, but her mirth continued.

“Glad you find this so entertaining,” he said dryly, after finishing most of his glass of whiskey in one drink. The glass at the photoshoot, it turned out, had been heavily watered down.

Leia took down her hair and slipped into the water beside him, her laughter finally beginning to subside. “I’m just trying to figure out how they knew you were so into baths,” she said. “That’s not usually the kind of thing you reveal.”

“It’s worse,” he said, grimacing a bit.

“Worse?”

“I told them the bath bomb thing.”

She stared at him. “You’re kidding.”

He grimaced again, taking a slug of whiskey. “Wish I were.”

Ever since they’d found a tub large enough to accommodate Han’s tall stature, he’d been fond of taking a long, hot bath at the end of a hard day. During one of these baths, he’d happened upon a vanilla-scented bath bomb Leia had received as a gift, accidentally dropped it into the water—and had come to bed smelling like freshly-baked cookies, much to Leia’s delight.

“How in the world did _that_ come up?” Leia asked.

He shrugged. “They were doin’ some kind of quiz, I don’t know. You know how they are, tryin’ to get me to tell all our bedroom secrets by mistake. Or ‘fresher secrets, I guess,” he said, rolling his eyes. The only reason he’d finally agreed to the interview at all was the obscene amount of money they’d promised to donate to his favorite charities for the price of a couple hours of his time.

“We didn’t actually get to use the tub on Ord Mantell,” he continued. “Or Bespin. So that would’ve just been sad. And hell if I was going to talk about our honeymoon,” he said, bending down to kiss her. “Or the one _nobody_ knows about.”

Leia kissed him back, but her face was serious as they pulled apart. “Nobody knows?”

“Secret’s still safe, Sweetheart.”

She settled down beside him again. “Good.”

He grinned and held her closer. The tub on Hoth was just for them.

* * *

**_Four years earlier, Alliance base, Hoth:_ **

The only problem with having a reputation as a man who could smuggle anything was that Han was constantly being approached by various Rebels to prove that fact. Ordinarily that wouldn’t be an issue; he’d tack things on to his supply runs for the Alliance, and as long as it wasn’t anything ridiculous, the Alliance would chalk it up to the price of maintaining morale and would look the other way. The Alliance got their supplies, the troops got their whiskey or their cigarras or their favorite candies, and everyone was happy.

But now, holed up in the coldest, most remote hellhole Han could imagine, Alliance funds running low, there were fewer official supply runs, and it was more difficult to get away without being noticed. Especially given how much of a stickler for security a certain Princess had become recently.

Still, there was a supply run coming up, and the usual flurry of requests for extras had made its way to Han. Wedge had given him a list of parts that would be no problem to secure; Han almost laughed him out of the hangar when he read it. But he waited for the other shoe to drop, and sure enough—

“We need you to smuggle something else,” Wedge said quietly. “It’s coming through Procurement, but— _she_ can’t know about it. And it’s kind of big.”

Han raised an eyebrow at him.

“There’s a case of Whyren’s with your name on it if you can get it here unnoticed.”

* * *

The something that earned Han a case of Whyren’s turned out to be a double-sized Mon Calamari soaking tub, and the other parts turned out to be—

“You’re building a hot tub?” Han chuckled, watching the Rogues at work. They’d managed to rope one of the master electricians into their plan, and their construction looked solid enough; at least they’d avoid electrocuting anyone with this thing. But how they were ever going to hide it from High Command, he had no idea.

Hobbie was nonchalant about that. “Everyone’s colder ‘n balls here. We’ll just tell ‘em it’s for therapeutic purposes,” he said. “They’ll love it.”

“And it’s perfect for…romancing royalty, eh, Solo?” Janson said with a wink.

Han pretended not to hear that, and headed for the door. “Good luck,” he said. _You’re gonna need it_.

* * *

Amazingly enough, the Rogues managed to get the hot tub up and running for a full three weeks without High Command taking notice. If it hadn’t been for the rather boisterous hot tub party Janson had insisted on throwing, or the blown fuse that knocked out several of the heating units on base, it might have stayed secret a little bit longer.

Now Han, having smuggled the tub to Hoth in the first place, was being contracted to take it back.

“Should be a simple exchange,” Leia said, going over the manifest with him the evening before the trip. “One double Mon Calamari tub for these supplies.” The list on the datapad was eminently practical: heater cores, rations, medical supplies.

“Sure you want to return it?” he asked, a bit of a tease in his voice. “Wouldn’t want to offend Ackbar or anything.”

He got the smile he was looking for. “There are no Mon Calamari assigned to Hoth,” Leia pointed out. “They would _die_.”

“Why’re we here again, then?” Han asked.

Leia answered that with silence and a gently raised eyebrow, and returned to the instructions for the supply run, all business again. Han half-listened, half-watched her, and he realized—

“Have you even seen it in action?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I know what a hot tub looks like.”

_Of course she hasn’t seen it_ , he thought. _She’s been holed up here day and night for the last two months_. “C’mon,” he said. “You should at least see it before they take it apart. ‘S pretty impressive.”

“Han—“

“It’ll just take a minute.”

* * *

The hot tub was still filled, but the water was growing cold. Han turned it back on, the jets that apparently were standard on the Mon Calamari tub firing up and the water heating back to temperature. “See?” he said. “Feat of engineering.”

Leia had her arms folded in front of her, but she looked duly impressed. “If only they were that good with the speeders.”

She was looking rather longingly at the water, and Han couldn’t tell whether it was due to the water itself, or to the heat already starting to rise off the top. The Command Center was quite cold compared to the storage area the Rogues had turned into the hot tub room.

_I might live to regret this_ , he thought, _but_ _what the hell_. “What do you say? Still time to take a quick dip.”

She whipped her head around to face him, her eyes narrowing. “Hey, no funny business,” he promised, his hands up. “Just sayin’—be a shame to waste all that energy. It’s warm.”

She didn’t say anything, which at least meant she wasn’t going to throw him out on his ear. He pressed a little further. “Rogues are out on exercises. Nobody has to know.”

“I suppose _you’ve_ been in,” she said.

“Nah,” he said. “’M too tall for bathtubs. Don’t like bein’ half warm, half freezing.”

“The Mon Calamari tubs are deep,” she pointed out. “I’ll bet you’d fit.” She looked at him. “I’ll go in if you do.”

Han was momentarily thrown. Had Leia just invited him into a hot tub with her? “What?”

“You heard me.” Han saw the challenge in her eyes. She got that look on missions sometimes; Han had come to think of it as her _Oh, yeah, we’re going for it_ look. It was a good look on her.

“All right,” he drawled, and before he knew it they were both down to their skivvies, Leia stepping carefully into the warm water.

Leia had been right; the tub was large enough that even Han’s long body fit comfortably. For her part, Leia was bobbing in the water next to him, looking more relaxed than he could remember seeing her in a long time.

He grinned at her. “’S nice, right?”

“Mmm.” Leia agreed.

“Too bad we gotta send it back.”

“Too bad,” Leia said. “Damned bossy ice queen bitch,” she joked.

“Ice _princess_ ,” Han corrected. “And she’s not bossy, she has leadership skills.”

“You’ve been paying attention,” she said. Leia had made that particular correction on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Not bad for a reckless pirate mercenary, eh?”

“Smuggler,” she corrected. _She’s been listening, too_. “And he’s not reckless, he has leadership skills.” She leaned back, letting her feet float up to the surface of the water. Her toes were painted with the purple polish he’d brought back from Mantua.

“Mmm,” he said. “That why you keep me around?”

“That,” she said, “and you’re a terrible mercenary. Mercenaries actually accept payment. In currency other than ship parts,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

Han made a little noise, but didn’t say anything. He had an arrangement with Rieekan, just until the cash situation cleared up a bit. Nobody else was supposed to know about it.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice?” she said softly.

“Figured you were good for it. Eventually,” he said. “And I think—we’re stickin’ around for a while, anyway.”

She looked back at him, her eyes wide. “You’re staying?”

He smiled at her warmly. He’d been waiting for the right time to tell her this, and apparently this was it. “Can’t join up officially, but—yeah, you’re stuck with me. Us,” he corrected.

She came closer to him in the water, and for the second time this evening, she surprised him, throwing her arms around him. She pressed her head to his chest, and he wondered if she could feel his heart pounding.

He pulled back, and her huge brown eyes were on him, her chin tipping up as he started to bend toward her…

Then they heard the Rogues calling to each other in the hallway leading back from the hangar.

_Blast!_

In a flash, Leia was out of the water, drying herself with a towel and climbing back into her snowsuit. Han wasn’t far behind, turning off the hot tub after he got back into his clothes.

Soon, Han was following Leia out of the room, her datapad back in hand, her focus back to cool efficiency and that damned manifest.

But once the Rogues were safely out of earshot, she turned back to Han. “To be continued?” she asked.

He grinned. “To be continued.”


End file.
